Photos from the Camargue (Part 2)

I did tell you bulls were a big thing around here...

Things you might see on the street #23 (cat)

Hot day.  Flat cat. So flat, in fact, that we had to make sure he was still breathing (he was).  Way to relax, little dude.

Farewell to Furry Man-Whore

I've been putting off writing about this because it was so hideously painful, but I guess I have to get it over with.  I originally ended up with Furry Man-Whore because I sublet an apartment at the end of January from a divorcing couple, neither of whom could take their cat with them because both their new partners were allergic.  So I looked after the cat, and eventually even Miss K's frozen black heart couldn't withstand the onslaught of feline charm that FMW unleashed upon me:  every time I walked through the door, he was there to greet me; every time I sat down on the sofa, he jumped into my lap; he was always up for a cuddle any time I picked him up; he slept curled up under my chin every single night.  In other words, he was impossible to resist - he even seduced my friends who don't normally like cats.  So when I was told at the beginning of April that I'd have to move out at the end of June, I was very keen to formally adopt him, and after a month of dithering about it, the owner told me at the end of April that it was "90% certain" that I would get to keep the cat.  

Well, 90% is pretty definite, so I naturally spent the next two months thinking that Furry Man-Whore was going to be living in my new place with me, so you can imagine my devastation when the owner changed his mind at the last minute and decided to keep the cat.  My joy at moving into my new apartment was almost completely ruined by a) having to leave him, and b) the fact that I had pictured my life here including him, so it felt like I was living here with a little furry ghost.  I was able to mostly keep my mind off it during the days, because I was busy with two jobs and running all over town looking for the things I needed for the apartment, but the nights were rough.  I couldn't sleep at all without him, so I spent the first three weeks of July taking a sleeping pill every night and washing it down with a bottle (yes, a bottle) of wine.  It was all horribly dramatic and Judy Garland (although in my case, without the talent), but I've managed to slowly start getting it together since then. 

Anyway, sorry to bore you with all that, and I know it makes me sound like Crazy Cat Lady Extraordinaire, but it really affected me and that's one of the reasons I haven't been very consistent with posting recently - I've just been too damn sad, but don't worry, I'm coming back from it.  I won't talk about it again, but for the cat-lovers out there, see below for some fine Furry Man-Whore moments...

Favourite Paris photos - 33

Chic chiens?

I think there is a doggie fashion show taking place around the corner from my apartment right now.  And the reason why I think this is because when I was walking home this afternoon, that street was closed off (with security guards in attendance, no less) and there was a big catwalk (or should it be dogwalk?) laid out in front of the very large pet store there.  And now, a couple of hours later, techno-ish music suitable for a fashion show is pumping out, I can hear an announcer yapping  away (although it's too far away for me to actually make out the words) and I can also hear an awful lot of dogs barking.  Gentle readers, I could go investigate this for you, but that would involve traipsing down my five long flights of stairs and then dragging myself back up them again afterward.  And what if I'm wrong?  A doggie fashion show in Paris would be just weird enough to be kinda awesome, but I'm not about to take the chance.   Besides, and more importantly, Furry Man-Whore is completely flaked out on my lap and if I disturbed him to go and check out a bunch of dogs, he would take his little kittycat revenge out on me somehow - it's just not worth the risk that he might vomit in my hair when I'm sleeping.  Not that he's ever done such a thing, but that's why I try not to make him mad at me...

 

Things you might find in my bedroom

Now don't get all excited from the title, you cheeky little monkeys (honestly, what filthy minds you all have - mercy!) - it just occurred to me that although I have written about Furry Man-Whore before ("Tails" of romance from the city of love), I haven't really shown you what he looks like up close, and I thought I'd post a couple of photos so you know what I'm talking about when I refer to him. 

Oh, all right, I'm a crappy liar - here's the real reason:  I've been pretty consistent about posting recently and I am trying to keep my momentum going, but I just have nothing whatsoever to write about today, so I am using the technique of posting cute kitty-cat pictures to distract you from that fact.  Don't judge me!  I feel so cheap... sob!  (Unless, of course, the technique worked, in which case...woo hoo!)

"Yeah, baby - c'mon over here and gimme some looove..."

"That's right, I'm a furry man-whore, and this is just how we roll..."

A tale of two man-whores

When I woke up on Saturday, I really didn't want to see anyone - not only did I feel like death on a cracker, I looked like one of the graveyard extras from the video of Thriller (see previous post for photos, in case you are just tuning in now, and have missed my recent hideousness).  However, my friend Filthy Man-Whore (previously known as The Belgian, but this is a much better nickname) was back in town, and called me up mid-afternoon wanting to get together. 

I was definitely not in the mood for company, but Filthy Man-Whore was only in Paris for the day and he decided to spend it helping to distract me from my misery, bless him.  He brought me lunch, made me cups of tea, amused me with vivid and detailed stories of his exceedingly slutty sex life (hence his new nickname), took me out for a very nice dinner (once I started feeling slightly more human later in the day), and never once made fun of Ol' Eye-bald here, which was all very sweet.

I am, however, slightly worried about how well he got along with the cat.  As soon as Filthy Man-Whore arrived, Furry Man-Whore scuttled straight into his lap (as furry man-whores are wont to do), and frankly, considering where that lap has been?  I'm just surprised the poor cat didn't catch some horrible social disease just from being in that general vicinity, but hey, they're both man-whores, so maybe they're immune to each other...

Another day with the dead

As I have mentioned before, one of the most interesting things to do in Paris is to wander around one of the amazing cemeteries (Day with the dead).  I hadn't previously checked out the one in Montmartre, so before Mrs Redneck moved back to the US, we spent an afternoon there.  Hope you enjoy the photos...